


Of Halloween and Bees

by babybluecas



Series: The Joys of Parenting [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bees, Castiel and Kids, Children, Crafts, Dean and Kids, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Parenthood, Parents Castiel & Dean Winchester, Trick or Treating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 03:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8429089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas/pseuds/babybluecas
Summary: Dean and Cas's little daughter goes trick-or-treating for the first time. There's something special Cas wants to prepare for her.





	

There’s a rather concerning thumping coming from downstairs. It starts in short, rapid bursts then goes quiet for a while before resuming. Dean furrows his brow and scoops his daughter off the carpet.

“Alright, Mays, let’s see what papa came up with this time,” he says, placing the girl on his hip.

“It’s loud,” she notices, cocking her head to the side, but doesn’t cover her ears, even though the sound only hammers harder and longer as they stroll down the stairs.

As soon as they’re off the last step, he sets her down and she runs towards the kitchen to discover the origin of the noise.

“Please, not the kitchen,” Dean mutters to himself as he follows, really hoping he won’t find the place in ruin.

The kitchen is fine, luckily. That’s if he doesn’t count the table in the middle of it, the half of which is covered with shopping bags, the other half, well...

“The hell is this, Cas?”

He points to the sturdy machine standing before the man. It’s not very big, and supposedly white, or at least used to be at some point. It’s really hard to tell with the amount of dust still covering it despite Cas’s visible attempts at smearing it off with his palms.

“Language, Dean,” Cas chastises him semi-automatically, not taking his eyes off the knobs and switches.

Dean takes a breath.

“The frick-frack is this, Cas?” he corrects and gets a brief look from Maya, who’s already kneeling on the chair next to Cas, inspecting the new thing with excitement.

“It’s a sewing machine,” Cas replies simply, as if Dean is an idiot.

“I know it’s a sewing machine!” Dean says, waving his palm in annoyance. “I’m asking where it’s from and what it’s doing here.”

Cas swipes stray locks of hair off his forehead, leaves a dark smudge of dust on his forehead. He leans back and finally looks up at Dean still stood in the doorway.

“I found it in the attic some time ago, the previous locators must have left it with the rest of their things. I’m trying to figure out if it’s working as it should.”

“By the ruckus it’s making I’d say it’s working,” Dean supplies. “Are you gonna clean it or should I call CDC?”

“Uh, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Cas mutters, staring at his filthy palms like he’s only just noticed all the dirt he brought from the attic and straight into the kitchen, of all places. “And yes,” he adds with a smile. “The main mechanism seems to be fine.”

He’s about to stand up when Maya stops him with her palm at his elbow.

“Do the thing!” she pleads, pointing to the sewing machine.

She puts her palms over her ears this time, but her face is bright and all of her tiny teeth gleam in a wide grin. Cas nods and presses the black pedal sitting next to the machine. There comes the hammering again, followed by Maya’s giggle.

“There’ll be a lot more of it before papa finishes,” Cas promises (or threatens, as far as Dean’s concerned), pushing his chair away. “Don’t touch it, sweety.”

Maya obeys and stays full three inches away from the machine, but judging by the twitching of her fingers, her hand moving towards it, just to be pulled back and ending up in fair locks of hair at the back of her head, she can barely keep herself from dabbing at the dust. Dean walks over to the table, takes a peek into the bags. There are wads of fabric, yellow and black, some fake fur, copper wire, and sewing accessories.

“What is it exactly that papa is trying to do?” he asks, skeptically. “Watched too many Project Runway reruns or what?”

“No, I am going to sew a Halloween costume for Maya,” Cas announces proudly, wiping his hands off with a paper towel.

Maya bounces in her chair.

“So we're actually doing this Halloween thing?” Dean makes sure. The topic somehow never came up in their household. They did have candy prepared for the kids last year, but other than that, they just chilled and watched whatever horror movie there was on tv. “Isn't it, I don't know, too pagan for an ex-angel?”

“It’s a human tradition. Many Christian traditions originate from paganism.” After a pause, he adds, “I already invited Charlie and Sam with the family.”

“Good to know,” Dean acknowledged. “But you do realize we could just buy her a costume, right?”

“The costumes for children sold in stores are hardly anatomically correct,” Cas answers with a totally straight face.

“That’s because costumes don’t have to be anatomically correct, they’re supposed to be cute!” With one finger he opens one of the bags again, the one with the fabric. He knows what it’s going to be, it’s not hard to guess, but now that he knows Cas’s view on costumes, the idea suddenly became quite terrifying. “And this is gonna be…?”

“A bee!” Maya shouts, throwing her hands up.

“A bee,” Dean echoes, not sharing her enthusiasm. “An anatomically correct bee the size of a three-year-old? I’m not sure this neighborhood is ready for it.”

Cas frowns. “But it’s going to be adorable.”

Dean stares at him with an expression of pure horror, but doesn’t say anything. Unless Cas discovers that he’s secretly a tailor, this whole thing is most likely to end up as one big fiasco with a walk of shame straight into a costume store at the last minute.

Hopefully, Jack-o’s, the only store in town will have tiniest bees in stock. Going by the cheerful buzzing coming out of Maya’s mouth, she’ll be devastated if she can’t go trick-or-treating as the stripey insect. Dean should probably check the store’s offer right away and maybe ask them to leave one over for him.

Hey, he never said he’s gonna be the most supportive boyfriend in town.

Dean lets Cas clean the machine in peace and looks around.

“What is that? You hear that buzzing?” he says, flailing his hands, trying to shoo the imaginary insect away. “I think it’s a mosquito.”

Maya shakes her head. “No! Not a mosquito! It’s a bee!” she shouts and starts buzzing louder.

“A what?” Dean questions, curling his palm around his ear. “A fly? It sounds like a fly! Shoo, you fly!”

He keeps swatting around to the sound of Maya’s buzzing broken by her laughter.

“A BEE! I’m a bee!” She stands up on the chair. “A huge bee!”

“Oh, a bee?”

Dean grabs her before she can slip and fall over. Nearly hysterical from the laughter, she’s all squirmy and soft in his hold. When he puts her down on the floor and lets her go, he gives her a second to collect herself before he claps his hands.

“Well then I have to catch that little, buzzing bee!” he calls and starts chasing her into the living room. “C’mere!”

The girl gives out gleeful shrieks as she runs, nearly gets caught just to slip out again. They frolic until they’re both out of breath, then they roll onto the floor, Dean spread on the carpet, Maya with her head on his belly.

In the kitchen, a rapid thump-a-thumping of the sewing machine resounds again.

 

Dean plunges the spoon into the biggest pumpkin they had in store and scrapes out the remainder of the pulp. It’s taken him much longer than he planned, somewhere halfway through he started regretting not taking the smallest pumpkin in the store instead. Or, well, a normal-sized pumpkin. Not this gigantor that can barely fit on the counter. Now that he thinks about it, he should have dropped it off at Sam’s, it’d suit there better. A huge guy, a huge house, a huge pumpkin.

Behind him, the sewing machine goes quiet. The silence fills immediately with a series of pained moans. Dean’s not the only one in the house who regrets his decision.

“You okay there?” he asks, dumping the last of the pulp into the bowl.

He turns to the man, who’s in the middle of performing the strangest figures, bending backwards and sideways, stretching his arms in every direction, while the chair squeaks beneath him.

“Just a terrible backache, I’ve been sitting too long in this position,” Cas complains and moves to rubbing his eyeballs. “And I think I’m also losing my sight.”

“Ouch, sorry. Can’t do anything about your eyes, but I’ll give you a proper massage after you’re done, how about that?” Dean offers, wiping his hands clean.

Cas nods, his face brightens for a moment before falling as his fingers reach to the fabric. “I’d love that, but I’m no longer sure I’ll finish it in time.”

Dean circles the table to stand behind Cas. His hands wander to Cas’s shoulders, his fingers rub at his stiff muscles. It won’t help much, probably, but he knows well that after strain any relief is good. The noises coming out of Cas’s mouth turn from aching to pleasured.

“It’s early,” he comforts him. “And there’s still time tomorrow. Besides,” he continues, slowly working out the knots, “you have no other choice, buddy. Maya is hellbent on that bee costume.”

“There might be a bit of my fault in it,” Cas confesses.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’d never guess.”

“You wouldn’t prefer she went as a witch, right? Or a— a popularized version of a devil. With those flashing horns.”

“God, no,” Dean agrees, shaking his head at the thought of the toy sitting at the bottom of Maya’s toy trunk. “Who the heck thinks it’s a cute thing to buy for a child.”

“Well, Deborah, apparently.”

“I am totally fine with a bee. But now you’ve gotta provide, Jack-o’s don’t have tiny bees in the catalog.” The words slip out before he can think them through.

Fuck.

Cas shakes Dean’s hands off and turns to look at him.

“You checked?” He’s doing a good job of hiding the disappointment and betrayal, but it’s there. “You assumed, right away, that I wouldn’t succeed and you went to the store to get Maya a backup costume?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s not what happened, Dean wants to say, but he can’t. That’s pretty much exactly how it happened. Only not so much ‘assumed’ as ‘worried,’ but at this point, it’s just semantics.

“Oh, come on, Cas. It’s not like I— I happened to be passing by so I stepped in,” he tries to explain, but he’s still a fucking ass. “Just, you know, in case.”

“In case I fuck up,” Cas snaps and turns his back to Dean.

“Language,” he mutters, even though Maya couldn’t hear it in the living room. Cas just grunts with resentment, but doesn’t pull away when Dean’s fingers sink into his hair. “You’ve never sewn before, alright? And it sure doesn’t look like an easy task.”

The silence is tense between them for a moment.

“It isn’t,” Cas admits, at last, with a heavy sigh and gives up the sulking. “I’m glad I bought the fabric in overabundance.”

Dean huffs out a soft laugh, relieved that he didn’t earn himself a doghouse, though he deserved it. “That bad?”

“Trial and error," Cas comments and resumes his work. “But I think I got it now.”

“Good.”

Dean leans to press a kiss into Cas’s hair. Through the noise of the machine Dean doesn’t hear the patter of small feet on the floor.

“Daddy finished, finally?” Maya asks, with a strong emphasis on ‘finally.’ She was the first one to get bored of how long it was taking to gut the pumpkin. Now she’s staring at Dean, impatient, head tilted to the side, hands on her hips.

“Yes. All scooped out, time to carve,” Dean informs and lifts her up to sit her on the counter. “Do you want it to be smiling or scary?”

“Scary!” Maya answers without hesitation. “The most scariest pumpkin ever!”

“Good choice, kiddo.” Dean winks at her and lifts her up to the counter. “One most scariest pumpkin ever coming right up.”

 

“Can I see it? In the mirror?” Maya asks, swirling around gracefully, as if she had a Cinderella gown on, not a half-done insect costume.

“But it’s far from finished!” Cas says, kneeling in front of her. “There isn’t much to see.”

There isn’t much to see is a bit of an understatement. So far it’s just pieces of yellow fabric sewn over Maya’s old t-shirt and pants, and a pocket hanging at the back where the cotton wool will go. But it’s kind of taking a bee’s shape. When Dean squints and moves his imagination it’s actually starting to look quite decent.

“But I wanna,” she pleads, pulling an epic combo of puppy eyes and a pout.

Distress paints on Cas’s face as Dean waves his palm towards the corridor. “You know where the mirror is.”

“It’s not ready!” Cas calls after her, but she’s already in front of the mirror, turning around and making faces.

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if she changed her mind now?” Dean comments with a playful smirk, as Cas stands up and moves towards the couch.

The man treats him to a glare so cold Dean physically fights a shudder. “There would be nothing hilarious about it,” he growls.

“Easy, easy, Cas.” Dean throws his hands up, half in defense, half to placate him. “I was joking.”

Cas still doesn’t look amused when Maya comes back asking about the lack of stripes and wings. Dean’s well aware that at this point he’s risking a serious injury or a year of silent treatment at best but he can’t help himself.

“Mays, you sure you don’t want to be Batgirl? Batgirl’s awesome.”

“Dean,” Cas warns him, but Maya’s voice drowns him out.

“Bee’s awesomer!” she says, climbing on the couch between them.

That finally turns the thin line of Cas’s lips into a wide green. “I’d say bees are the awesomest. And important.”

“So important.” Maya nods with a very scholarly look on her face.

“Is that so?” Dean questions, shifting to take a better look at his daughter.

“Yes! Bees go to flowers and they—” she cuts off and pulls her eyebrows together, trying to remember the word. “They pola—”

Cas lifts his palm to the corner of his lips. “Pollinate,” he quietly supplies, as the word’s meant to be only heard by the girl.

“Pollunate,” Maya repeats loud after him. “They do that and flowers grow and grow!”

She flicks her wrists, waves her hands around to illustrate an entire meadow of flowers blooming around them. Damn, those little bees guys are great, aren’t they?

“What flowers?” This time it’s Cas who asks, checks if she still remembers from their summer walks. Or from the cartoons, educational as they are.

“All flowers!” Maya exclaims. “Daisies and tulips,” she enumerates her favorites, “and those blue, little flowers, what are they?”

“Forget-me-nots?”

“Forget-me-nots!” she agrees, giggling. “I forgot forget-me-nots! Ohhhh, forgot forget-me-nots!”

She squeals and throws her head back, repeating the line like it’s the funniest joke ever. And it is, of course, it is. The forgotten forget-me-nots are hilarious and the sound of her laughter filling the living room, their entire home, is contagious. The dads couldn’t resist joining her if they tried. Cas with his shaking shoulders, hand covering his mouth, eyes fixed on their little one. Dean’s just shaking whole, bent in half, his eyes well up from guffaw and from coughing when he chokes on air.

“That was a good one, Mays,” he huffs out when he can breathe regularly again.

As he wipes the tears from his eyes with the back of his palm, he doesn’t miss Cas doing the same.

“Alright, let’s get you out of it,” Cas says, calmly, voice still a little caught up in his throat.

Maya insists on doing it herself, but accepts Cas’s help when she gets stuck with the t-shirt around her head and elbows. Putting the regular clothes on goes much smoother.

Cas looks at the clock on the wall.

“I’ll better get back to work. I still need to sew on the black stripes,” he lists, “and the fur on the thorax and the wings and then—”

“You need help with that?” Dean offers. How hard can it be, really, once all pieces are cut out and ready for sewing? He’s no stranger to needle and thread, after all, even if he’s used to working on a different kind of fabric. “I’m no tailor but I do have some practice with stitches.”

“Thank you, Dean, but no. You have a lot of work to do as well.”

“Work?” Dean asks, cautiously. He sure doesn’t remember having anything in his planner for today.

“You need to make the decorations and food.”

Oh, right, the party he was the last one to find out about.

“I didn’t buy any cotton wool for the abdomen.” Cas gasps like he’s just caused the seventh apocalypse or so. “I’ll have to go out to get some.”

“I’ll get it. I need to buy food, apparently. And, uh, balloons? Do we want balloons?”

“Yes!” Maya answers him, as he pulls out his phone to make a shopping list.

“Balloons,” he repeats, as he notes down. “Some, I don’t know, spaghetti? Spaghetti’s spooky-ish, right?” He’ll need to look up some creepy recipes online. He might have seen somewhere cupcakes looking like graves. He wonders if he’d manage to make them open-grave cupcakes, salted and burned. Not literally, of course. “Oh, and don’t forget the sting,” tells Cas. “The little bee must have a sting to, well, sting, like bees do.”

“But bee don’t wanna!” Maya chimes in.

Dean looks up at her. Cas has that grin on again.

“It doesn’t wanna sting?”

“No, it doesn’t wanna sting. See,” she begins her lecture and points to Dean’s palm resting between them. “You have a bee here and you do this—” she takes a swing and slams the hypothetical bee— “the bee will sting and you will cry!” she explains.

“So I can’t do that?” Dean makes sure. “I can’t swat a bee?”

“No, you can’t do that,” she says seriously. “You have to— Bee sits here—” she points to her own forearm this time— “and you have to say ‘hi, little bee!’ and it fly away and pollate flowers.”

“Really?” Dean makes a surprised face. “And I have to say ‘hi, little bee’?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, this is amazing!” He smiles at her and kisses the top of her head. “You’re such a smart girl, baby! Thank you for telling me, I’ll remember that.”

Maya beams at him. “Good. Don’t forget like forget-me-nots!”

She makes herself cackle a little again.

“I won’t,” Dean assures her with a chuckle.

He waits for her to slip to the floor and get occupied with the toy she abandoned there before he leans towards Cas.

“You’re turning our daughter into a walking encyclopedia,” he mutters.

Cas shrugs, a shit-eating grin blooms on his face. “I can’t help she’s got her intellect after me.”

“Smartass.”

 

“Close your eyes, daddy!” Maya calls from the bathroom.

Dean thrusts the empty candy wrapper into his jeans pocket and rushes back to the couch. He covers his eyes with both hands.

“Closed! Let me see that li’l bee!”

There’s a quick patter of feet running towards him. “Open!”

When he opens his eyes, a bee is standing before him, all yellow and black and grinning wide. Not a nightmarish, overgrown insect but a cute little bee; adorable, just as Cas promised. Maya’s head is hugged by a hood that imitates the bee’s head, together with the eyes, antennae and the mouthpart standing out over the girl’s blonde bangs. Her chest and belly, a.k.a. thorax, or whatever the hell Cas called it, is wrapped in a soft fur that looks reasonably warm, which was quite a brilliant idea. It is the end of October, after all.

“Wow,” he gasps, a little dumbfounded. “Turn around.”

The wings are made of a net stretched over copper construction. The bum is big and puffy, ended with a proper, stuffed sting (very dangerous). He wouldn’t want to anger this bee, for sure.

Maya swings back and forth on her heels awaiting his reaction. Awesome, he wants to say. Or more precisely, he wants to say ‘holy shit, this fucking rocks,’ but he bites his tongue.

Instead, he squats to get on Maya’s level. He lifts his hand, waves his fingers.

“Hi, little bee!”

The widest smile brightens the girl’s face. She starts jumping joyfully, little fists raised up.

“Look the wings!”

“I love the wings!” he assures her. “You can fly.”

“Yes,” she replies and moves to jumping around the whole room. The wings swing up and down with her.

“It’s not as anatomically correct as I imagined,” Dean says to Cas, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“But it is,” Cas replies, eyes following the girl. “I never said it would be realistic,” he explains, turning to Dean. “That would be terrifying.”

“Oh, that’s— it makes sense.”

Cas chuckles. His eyes shift to Dean’s mouth and he lifts his thumb. He licks it before reaching to the corner of Dean’s lips. “I left you for ten minutes, Dean,” he says, rubbing off the tell-tale smear of chocolate.

“Sorry,” Dean answers, sheepishly. “But come on, we’ve got three boxes of these.”

“You can eat whatever’s left after all the children finish trick-or-treating,” Cas promises. “So what do you think? Did I eff up?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s incredible. Looks like I’ll never have to buy clothes again.”

Cas’s eyes grow a little for just a fraction of a second. “Oh you wish, honey.” He snorts. “I’m never touching the sewing machine again.”

“You gonna waste talent like—” Dean teases, but the rest of the sentence drowns in his yawn.

Cas gives Dean’s cheek a sweet caress. “How long did you stay to prepare everything?”

“Not long.”

It’s a lie. He stayed up way too long, getting most of the food done or prepared to just need final touches today, putting up the decorations of paper bats and skeletons on the house front and the carved pumpkin on the porch, blowing orange balloons shaped like jack-o’-lanterns. And then he stayed up a little bit longer to make something he almost forgot about, ‘cause he was sure Cas had forgotten about it as well. And he was right, which means he practically averted a complete disaster.

He’ll be fine, though, he used to go around on four hours of a sleep a night and kept himself sharp. He can survive one day on five and a half.

The buzzing sound of the doorbell resounds and Dean moves to let the guests in.

“Trick or treat?” calls the trio at the doorstep before resolving into laughter.

There’s a young Jedi, Luke Skywalker, waving his lightsaber, a Wizard boy, Harry Potter, constantly fixing his glasses, and a redhead in tight leather hovering over them.

“Black Widow?” Dean guesses, pointing at Charlie.

“I made it easy, didn’t I?” She grins, brushing off a lock of her hair.

“You look amazing. All three of you,” he compliments, hugging the twins. “Nerds,” he adds quietly when they run to Cas and Maya.

“Nerds?” Charlie questions. “And what’s your costume supposed to be?” She regards his regular plaid and jeans.

“How can you not know?” he pretends to be offended. “It’s Dean Winchester, this really cool hero.”

She puts a finger to her chin. “Never heard of him, what did he do?”

“Not much, just saved the world a couple of times,” he jokes.

“Oh, that one!” Charlie grins and climbs to her toes to kiss his cheek. “I guess he’s pretty great.”

“Seriously, Charlie, you really look amazing. You sure it’s us and the kids you wanna spend the evening with?”

“Thanks. I’m recycling while it fits.” She winks at him. “Plus, my sweet, little niece and nephews beat Netflix and alone anyday.”

Like on a command, Maya appears next to them and grabs Charlie’s leg.

“Auntie Charlie!” she squeals like she hasn’t seen her favorite aunt in months.

“Look at you!” Charlie nearly matches her in squealing as Maya presents her costume. “Is that a sting? Now that’s who I’d like to take to the boss fight.”

“No!” Maya protests. “Bee not wanna sting!”

“Oh, there we go.” Dean chuckles and leaves the girls to discuss the importance of bees eye to eye.

He finds Cas in the kitchen, putting cookies on a plate.

“I think we’re good to go,” the man says. “I’ll just take this to Charlie so she has something to bite between the doorbells.”

“Alright. It’s nice of her to offer to play the butler while we’re gone,” Dean comments, reaching for a cookie, which earns him a slap on the palm. “We wouldn’t want all that candy not to be given away.”

As Cas sets the food on the table and calls children to get ready, Dean excuses himself for a second. He runs to the bedroom and pulls the black bag from the very back of the closet.

“I think you’ve forgotten something, Cas,” he says, pulling a yellow and blue piece of cloth out. “Two things actually.”

Cas and the children and even Charlie look at him curiously, as he gives his handiwork to Maya. She shakes it until it takes a proper shape of a candy bag loosely resembling a tulip with yellow and blue petals. Dean has no idea if tulips like that actually exist, in fact, he’s pretty sure they don’t, so there goes Cas’s attention to detail, but Cas’s old blue shirt was the only one he hoped not to get in trouble for ruining and there was too little of the yellow fabric left. The two fabrics don’t exactly match either, but the seams are strong and they don’t pose a threat of candy disaster.

Cas’s neck and ears turn red from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, anyone could forget the most important thing for trick-or-treating,” Dean comforts him. “And here’s consolation for you.”

The next thing he pulls out is store-bought for a change. There’s a limit even to Dean’s fine craftsmanship. With a quick move, he places it on Cas’s head before the guy can protest.

“There you go, my angel.”

“Dean, is that—” he starts, feeling the band embracing his head and the fluffy ring standing out, hanged on a piece of wire. “My hal—” he cuts off, glancing at the kids. “Halos don’t have fur on it.”

As far as Dean’s concerned, Cas is taking it well, again with the accuracy, rather than with a ‘thanks for the reminder that I’m not an angel anymore’ attitude. He’s sure gonna love the huge, white, feathery wings as well.

“I thought, hey, it’s not just Maya’s first trick-or-treating, it’s yours as well,” he says, accompanied by Charlie’s loud “Awwwww” and the boys’ confused “You’ve never done it? But you’re so old!” Dean pulls the rest of the costume out of the bag. “It might not be the most imaginative idea, but—”

“It’s so sweet, Dean, really.” The corners of Cas’s mouth curl up into a soft smile. “Unless you were trying to be funny then it is not funny.”

“Let’s go with sweet.”

“But I am definitely not going in a costume when you’re not wearing one,” he says firmly.

Dean rolls his eyes. That’s a really stupid rule that Cas has just made up. He’s not even gonna try with the Dean Winchester costume this time. Instead, he uses Maya as a secret weapon in convincing him, but that just backfires.

“Cos-tstume for daddy?” she asks and Dean knows he won’t weasel himself out of this one anymore.

Well, it’s his own fault, isn’t it? One day he’s gonna learn that teasing and pranking Cas never ends well for him. Especially when he involves Maya in it.

“What a shame we didn’t think about it. Maybe next year,” he says, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.

“There are two pieces, we could split,” Cas offers, taking his halo off.

“No, wait, guys!” Charlie calls, jumping off the couch. “I think I might have an idea.”

Dean doesn’t even try to stop her when she sprints up the stairs, followed by a tail of children. The twist in his stomach tells him he already knows what her brilliant idea was and he doesn’t like it at all. He decides to use the last nice moment he has, and one when the children don’t surround them sipping each word off their lips, he slips behind Cas, presses against his back, between his temporary wings, hands on his hipbones.

“It’s a three-part set, actually,” he purrs into his ear. “The third was a little inappropriate, though. Skimpy and satiny.” Cas stands still in his embrace, even as Dean’s thumbs sneak behind his belt. “Thought we’d leave it for the night.”

Cas doesn’t have time to say a word as four pairs of footsteps rumble down the stairs. But as Dean backs away and returns to his previous spot, he can see the shadow of a smile on his face.

“This’ll be so adorable,” Charlie exclaims, rolling into the living room with the toy in her hand.

Of course.

Dean seems to be the only one who doesn’t miss Cas’s wince.

He sighs, resigned. “Let me go grab a black sweater.”

 

“Turn it ooooon!” Maya insists and Dean feels like a complete idiot, pressing the button.

First of all, he’s wearing a headband. Second of all, the headband’s got horns on it. Devil horns flashing red and visible from a mile away. It’s just not fair. Cas’s costume might be tacky, silly and, well, girly, but at least it isn’t this garish.

“Relax, Dean,” Cas tries to soothe him. “It’s Halloween. Have you seen some of the costumes people wear?”

But other people are usually misguided teenagers, not dads, going on forty and trying to maintain some respect among the neighbors. This would have never happened if he hadn’t given Cas those damned wings. Or if he had believed in Cas’s skills a little more and hadn’t gone to that cursed jack-o’s in the first place. Somehow it seemed like a great idea back then.

It still does on Cas’s part. His hair got all messy from putting on and taking off the silver band, some glitter fell off the halo and landed on his cheeks; the little pieces glisten silver when he moves his head in the light of the streetlamps. The wings spreading wide behind his back aren’t exactly formidable and almighty as his real used to be, still there, untouched on their first Halloween, so many years ago, but the whole attire brings out some softness and sweetness in Cas.

“We’re moving out,” Dean grunts, as they stand by the wicket and wait for the kids to get their candy. “To Canada. Or Europe, I don’t care as long as it’s far from here.”

“Come on, Dean, you’re being ridiculous.” Cas wraps his palm around his wrist, puts the other under Dean’s chin. “It’s not so bad.”

“You said yourself these horns are horrible.”

“Oh, they are, but—” He pauses and cocks his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips. “We do look adorable, you must admit.”

“What’s adorable in this,” Dena insists, pointing to the atrocity on his head.

“Me an angel and you a—  _ a _ devil, I suppose? With or without out history, it is quite sweet.”

“Just because it was long ago—” Dean starts, but Cas cuts him off.

“Met in hell, fell in love against the odds,” Cas chirps, pulling him along the pavement.

“Alright, alright,” Dean interrupts him. “We should sell that shit to Hollywood, I know.”

“Language,” Cas says, although they have fallen a few houses behind and need to catch up. “Besides,” Cas adds when a cheerful “trick-or-treat?” resounds within their earshot. He stops them just to look Dean in the eyes when he says it. “I know it isn’t just Maya’s or mine first trick-or-treating. It’s yours too, isn’t it?”

Dean nods, reluctantly.

“Tried to take Sammy trick-or-treating once, I wrapped him in toilet paper, you know, a mummy. But it’s really not fun to do that in a motel.” He shrugs.

Cas stares at him with his big eyes filled with sympathy and love.

“Shall we make up for it?” He draws his face near, curls his fingers in the hairs at the back of Dean’s head. He places a kiss, quick and chaste, on Dean’s lips.

As they part, Dean’s hand raises to the off-switch of the horns, fingers feel for the cold plastic. He doesn’t press it, though. Lets the damn thing keep on flashing and smiles at his angel.

“Yeah, let’s do some trick-or-treating.”


End file.
